Early Years
Schools don’t smell the same as they used to, I thought to myself as I sat outside my son’s primary school class. I was waiting to see his teacher, Mrs Honeycomb. This was my first parents evening. As I sat just outside room four, my gaze wandered to the wall opposite. The large clock at the end of the corridor told me that Mrs Honeycomb was running at least ten minutes behind her schedule. I wondered if all clocks installed in schools were standard issue, as they all looked, and sounded the same. Heavy black rim, large white face with black numerals, and the loudest “tick, tock”, possible. The magnolia painted walls was barely visible underneath the colourful displays of the children’s class work. The thickly covered paintings were curling at the edges, despite the efforts of four extra large lumps of ‘blue tack.’ The door opened, a smiling couple emerged clutching a wad of precious paintings. A very tall, and very young Miss Honeycomb followed them. “Luke’s Mom? Do come on in,” she said cheerfully. Miss Honeycomb led me over to a group of very small, melamine-topped tables and chairs. On top of the tables was an assortment of coloured plastic trays. Each tray bore the name of a child and was packed to ca
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Some common words found in the essay are:
Smith Centre, Miss Honeycomb, , Noahs Ark, Lukes Mom, Word Count, chalk morning, miss honeycomb, sat outside, crayons colour,
Approximate Word count = 1003
Approximate Pages = 4 (250 words per page double spaced)
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